Nuria: "It doesn't look like you would imagine from this high up; I mean I've sometimes wondered what the world would look like if I were a bird, but that wasn't nearly this high, of course; I was in a really high tree one time when I was a child, and everything looked kind of different, but not like this; I heard a song once about a bird flying high in the sky... Do you have a headache, Picard? My ex-husbands both had trouble with headaches, too!"

Picard: Captain's Personal Log, Supplemental. The crew believe I am lucky to be going on an away party with the Doctor and the Counselor. However, in my experience, it just means I'll be nagged the entire time, like women love to do. "Captain, you shouldn't just head off until I've done a medical scan." "Captain, I'm sensing danger, you shouldn't just go on ahead." Blah, blah, blah...

Dr. Crusher: You know we can hear you when you do your log entries, don't you?

VILLAGERS: Okay, we'll come with you.
DATA: You must come with me, or else...wait, what?
VILLAGERS: We said we'll come with you.
DATA: You will? You mean we're telling you to leave the place you call home, and you're putting your survival and practical necessity before your emotional attachment to it?
VILLAGERS: Yes.
DATA: Seriously. You're messing with me right?

Sensing his date was failing, Geordi attempted to MacGuyver his way out of it.

Crusher: Sickbay to Bridge, I've figured out what we are dealing with. Everyone on this ship who replicated fish for dinner will become violently ill within the next half hour.

Picard: Just how serious is it, Doctor?

Crusher: Extremely serious. It starts with a slight
fever.

Troi starts showing signs of a chill.

Then a dryness in the throat.

Troi starts to talk, but can't because her throat is dry.

As the virus penetrates the red blood cells the victim becomes dizzy and begins to experience a rash and itching.

Troi acts dizzy and begins to itch her arms and legs

From there the poison works its way into the central nervous system causing severe muscle spasms, followed by the inevitable drooling.

Troi starts to spasm and then begins drooling.

At this point, the entire digestive system is rendered useless, causing the complete collapse of the lower bowels, accompanied by uncontrollable flatulence...

Troi begins farting

until finally the poor bastard is reduced to a quivering, wasted piece of jelly.

Troi is reduced to a quivering, wasted piece of jelly.

Data: As you can see, the nanites have become more active.

Dr. Stubbs: Maybe I could turn my Enid into a nanite. Old 'gal hasn't been active in years!

Data: As I was saying, they seem to no longer listen to our commands.

Dr. Stubbs: Now, that sounds like my Harrison. Is it too much to ask for to have a son who marries a pretty young lady instead of a life partner named Caleb who owns a boutique on Fire Island called "Everything Mesh."

Data: Doctor, if you don't mind, your outbursts are disrupting an important informational meeting.

Despite it's "highly evolved sensibilities and morales," the Federation's highest rated show in 2366 was Survivor. However, hundreds of years before, a new plot twist was added, instead of extinguishing your torch at tribal council, the loser now was phasered to death.

Worf: "Klingon palmistry has its basis in scientific fact. According to this, your lifeline is 37.24 millimetres. You will die on Stardate 56844.9, like a bitch on a Romulan warbird, after having all relevant data on the Enterprise and shuttle transporter systems and subsystems erased from your memory by a close proximity thalaron pulse generated EMP analogue."
Picard: "Poppycock!"

Guy on the left: "Ow... Ow... OWW! What are you standing around like a bunch of dorks for? Shoot back... Ow... Ow!!"

Riker singing "A-humping we will go, a-humping we will go, ee-aye-addio, a-humping we will go."

GEORDI: You know if I could rearrange the alphabet, I'd arrange it by frequency of occurrence. Which would put U and I significantly closer together.

PICARD: No Deanna, take a break, I've got this one. I'm sensing anger!

WORF: Captain, I do not think it is a good idea to give hostile super-intelligent nanites complete control over the one member of the crew capable of single-handedly taking over the entire ship.
PICARD: Shut up Worf.

Guy on left: FIRE!
Second to left: WATER!
Second to right: EARTH!
Right: HEART!